Winters Night
by wordlander
Summary: Based upon the book (not show), following the growing relationship of Sansa Stark and Sandor Clegane and how fate brought them together, recounting the years from one another's perspective. Sansa is now the lady of Winterfell, had no husband and maintains the stronghold of the North on her own...not entirely. Her consort Sandor remains ever faithful at her side.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter I

It was a long winter's night. The air was sharp with an icing cut to it, and all around was as silent as the dead. All I kept thinking to myself was, 'I hope he is safe, somewhere out of this winters night'. Sometimes I would sit at the stone ledge of the window, even though it was cold, I simply laid more furs over me. I wanted to keep watch day and night for any sign of his return. She remembered that night he left with Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion what he had said to her, 'Worry not little bird, I'll not be far from your side again. I'm making sure no harm will come to you or your little wolf sister. Once this long winter is over, and those foul bastards are sent back to their snowy graves for good, I'll be back here, at your side'. Now she feared he may have joined those ''foul bastards'', for it had been several weeks without word or sight of anything.

The only comfort I felt were the warmth of the blankets, the furs, the open fire that was kept lighting all day, with trees being cut down more and more to keep everyone within the walls of Winterfell from freezing to death. Never had I seen a winter so cold and cruel, and it was only a week before, a poor infant passed away from it's bitter touch. My thoughts and symptahies laid heavy with the mother as she had lost her husband only months earlier. Now, my thoughts were consumed with the one person who mad me feel safe and alive, and he was out there in that darkness and terror. I laughed at my memories of all those years ago when I had been no more than a child and him a big brutish man, serving the boy king I was to marry. How those years have changed us both, and the time he came to my families house to offer his sword and service to my family name; and to me.

I couldn't sleep this night, so my mind went back to all those memories buried in the deep crevices of the past. I remember the night of the Blackwater, the night Sandor had been in my room. I remember him asking me to come with him, to take me home, keep me safe. Many times since then I had wondered what would have been if I had chosen to accompany the then, hound. What an utter halfwit I had been when I think back to my past regressions. At least he was honest - a hound never lies after all.

As I sat staring out the frosted glass of my bedroom window, I looked over to the fire, thinking how inviting it appeared after hours of looking into the whiteness of the land outside. Taking the blankets and furs, I found a spot by the open fire, adding a couple more logs to rekindle to dying embers. Feeling melancholy, staring oblivious into the flames, I found myself looking around the room for no particular reason until my eyes fell upon my cedar chest. It was no surprise after all this time, I still thought of him when I looked at a cedar chest, where I had kept his bloody white cloak in the chest in King's Landing. Then I remembered his letters. Letters he had began to write to me a year after pledging his loyalty and sword. The first letter was short, and nothing of true note. Sandor simply wrote on a small piece of parchment his thanks and gratitude.

 _My Lady,_

 _I want to offer my gratitude for having given me a chance to prove my loyalty. I will keep you safe little bird, a promise I intend to hold from this day until my last._

 _Sandor of House Clegane, sworn sword and protector of Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell._

I had read that letter more times than I remember, maybe because it was the first he had ever wrote me, the first time he seemed like a true knight in his words. He was never truly poetic with his words day to day, but their were those rare times he would leave myself and others thinking about what he had said. For a long time when I was younger, he had frightened me terribly. It was never his face, with all the burnt side or his scowling, it was his anger. He always seemed one flicker away from tearing the city apart. I realized after he left just how terrible other men could be, and how they would lie to satisfy their own needs above all else. Sandor though, his words were brutal and cut through all those beautiful lies to give you the truth. In all it's ugly glory.

After that first letter, it was a while before I received another one and not before I sent a reply some time later. My letter was short, as I truly didn't know what to write to him other than my thanks and pleasure at having him serve Winterfell and my house. At the same time, I didn't want to seem too formal.

 _Dear Sandor,_

 _You have my thanks and gratitude for accepting my offer to serve as my sworn shield, and I will be forever grateful at your protecting of this house and all that remains within it's walls._

 _I would also like to thank you for your courage, courage in breaking the bindings of the past. You speak truth from the heart, and that takes bravery. Know that I am always grateful for it._

 _Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell._

That was my letter to Sandor, my first. I wanted him to truly know that I had always appreciated his honesty, no matter how harsh it was. Now, I truly missed hearing his words, the brutality of the truth and the coarseness of his voice. My days were spent around the ladies, maids and girls. I never saw my brother Bran much, though I did receive a letter often on how he was. As for Jon, I received letters from time to time. After all that had happened, Jon was never the same person, and struggled to fit into the daily ways of life, so he had taken off South to find some meaning to this life. It was sad that I didn't see him, though I knew he was finding his own peace. Something close to happiness.

When Jon first met Sandor, he was unsure of this giant of a man, face half scared and a menacing scowl. I knew differently. Sandor always kept creeping back into my thoughts over the years, now so more than ever after all this time together, our relationship had grown and was blossoming. Bran had the sight, he had felt Sandor's intentions, and knew he was to be trusted and not scorned for past regressions. It was Arya that needed persuasion. Arya was wild at heart, she always was from a little whelp. Gods, I did love her though. She, ever the little wolf protecting her pack. It was harder for Arya to be around Sandor more than any others. No one, especially Arya had forgotten Mycah, but in all rational thinking Sandor had had no choice in the matter, and surely would have been his head if he disobeyed. Truly, no one among us was without some guilt of our past happenings. Arya simply had a harder time than most letting the past be the past. She was trying, which is another reason why she spent so much time alone, and after some time, she too left like Jon. Arya however, went as far west as west goes, beyond the known world. I heard less from her than Jon which made my heart die a little each time. I never feared for Arya, I feared for others who would cross her.

The fires were dying again, and I grew tired, the night seemed endless. I lay down among the soft pillows and throws, my mind a wreck with worry for him. Where was he? Often times, these patrols of our borders took no more than a week or so. This time, is had been so long, I was losing count. Sandor...where were you now? Did you think of me? My chest ached not knowing. I sat in comfort of warm fires and furs, while he was out there in the cold and damp. He wasn't a young man anymore, and his leg caused him grief often. Over the years, I watched him continue working and serving as hard as an ox in the field, never slowing down or letting anyone see he felt tired.

The night grew long and I passed in and out of sleep. Still holding the box of his letters, I made my way to bed where I would at least in my dreams, be able to talk to him, hear his voice and be in his company.

How I missed him.

SANDOR

This buggering cold. Most of the men that are with me are all young and able for these long nights, 'cept for Thoros and Beric. That bastard never died. I though, would rather an ale in hand, feet by the fire and a woman to keep me warm. Only one ever took my thoughts so much as she did. Hair like the leaves of a Weirwood in the autumn set ablaze by the sun. Gods what I'd give just to see that hair now, not up in stupid fancy do's like in the cities, but loose and flowing down her back. It's only been the last few years I've noticed her as a woman, before she was just a whinging child. I'd always had great affection for her, though only in seeing a part of myself in her when she was younger. Now, she is a fine woman, tall and beautiful, standing apart from all others. Now I though, was growing older, and felt it. After those years apart, I often thought of what had happened to the poor girl when she didn't come with me. I see now, she wrose above all those fucking lords and their fucking lies and became a woman like non other, commanding the North and running her own home without a husband. Sometimes I was thankful she chose never to wed, a relief. I was content serving by her side, she never called me dog. She called me Sandor.

Gods what a damned night. Nothing but snow and wind and a cold arse. I'd often want to write to the Lady Sansa, but I'd never know what to say, their was nothing but this winter and little pricks wanting to start fights on the roads. I had wrote a couple before, only of successful border inspections, and clearing of any unwanted characters in the areas. Now I think she must not want to hear from me. I suppose it's a good a time as any to write her something of more worth.

 _My Lady Sansa,_

 _Forgive me for not writing of late, or much. Many of the border inspections have gone successful, no sign of them and I hope never. Gods it's bloody freezing, only the dead could live this far North and any we have met might as well be dead for being this far North._

 _The men grow tired and hungry, food is scarce up here. It'll not be long now unless we run into anything, and we'll be back within the walls of Winterfell. I hope you are well little bird? I'll feel more agreeable once I have a warm fire, a steaming pot of stew and bread, and a bed that isn't made of branches and leaves!_

 _One thought keeps me warm, and that is of my Lady's crimson hair. If I had a lock of that hair to keep with me, my night's wouldn't be as cold._

 _Kindest regards,_

 _Sandor Clegane, protector and sworn shield to Lady Sansa Stark, of Winterfell._

Seven hells, if any of the men read that they'd piss themselves laughing. My age had soothed my temper, before I'd have bellowed over at saying such things to a woman. This was Sansa after all, she was not like other ladies of her rank. She was always kind of heart, even when she was younger. I was a monster. In my mind back then, I was doing her a favour, making her grow up and see the people around her for what they were. It only made me look like the monster I felt. Gods, when I met her again all those years later, I thought I'd end up on the block or the noose. The first time I met her again, I scarcely believed it was the same girl I'd met years before, then she was but a little whimpering girl. In front of me stood a tall graceful, if not stern faced young woman. She had lost the naivety she'd had, and now I seen some of that wolf that was in her little sister Arya only not as wild.

It wasn't just meeting Sansa again that was burned into my head. The moment I swore to serve and protect her, was not long before I'd learned of my brother's demise and it unburdened me of all the rage and revenge I felt most of my life. A great relief was lifted and now I served at the side of someone who had suffered as equally to myself, only I had the scar to show. That was no longer a bother to me.

I sat with the men, while Beris and Thoros stayed very much to themselves, discussing matters I had no interest in. Bugger it all, I had no interest in any of it, this fucking cold wrecked me. I wanted my bed and a good night's rest, with dreams of crimson hair and hear the sweet songs of the birds outside my window. I no longer had the strength to keep awake, one of the younger men could take watch, I had somewhere to be in my dreams away from this fucking place.

Gods...I missed her.


	2. Chapter II

Chapter II

SANSA

Waking up upon the sheets and furs and the letters, now scattered among the bed after I had fallen into a deep sleep thinking of him. My eyes felt crusted and slow to open, the sun was blinding, in my desperation to see him in my dreams I had never pulled the curtains closed. Now, the sun broke through the frosted glass of the windows into the dark room, illuminating the furniture, throws and walls. Looking down at my sheets, I heard the crinkle of the letters I let slip from my grasp once sleep had taken me into a slumber. Collecting and sorting back into the small carved box. Gods how I wished to hear from him.

The maids gently knocked on my bed chamber doors, as dutiful as ever to come make the sheets, clean the fires and dress me for the day ahead. Although it wasn't always seen proper to thank the handmaidens, I never forgot how hard they worked in maintaining this place. I was also grateful for their company, as all the family I once had was now either long gone from this world or were half way across the world to far to call upon for comfort.

I remember the first few days Sandor began working as my sworn sword within Winterfell, he was almost coy in his mannerisms. Never wanting to put a foot out of place, he would follow every command; no matter how small or minor it may appear. His duties mainly being at my side or patrolling the grounds, and any other duties were nothing of note. At that moment, a grin came across my face remembering the times I would watch him from afar patrolling the grounds. This was months after he arrived to my service, when I was walking above the balconies, and I had been watching the everyday life of Winterfell happen below me. Sandor walked into the grounds, passing the vegetable stall when a young boy knocked into him, for a moment my heart caught in my throat that he might hit the boy. He stood like a giant to the little boy, grimacing above like a menacing shadow. I waited with baited breath, but all he did was mess with the boy, pretending to be angry and look down to him, then waved the boy on his way. Sandor simply walked on, and I smiled that the once hound had all but disappeared from him. It was the first time I had ever seen a kind side of Sandor, the first time I had seen the true self of a man who many feared.

Arya had been terribly conflicted when he had arrived, and she had debated whether she still wanted him dead or not, yet she never acted on those feelings. She also couldn't stay around with so many memories of a life that was no longer here. I understood, even if it pained me to not have her around, I longed to have any of what was left of our family around. Sandor was nervous around her, after the last time they had seen each other, yet his nature now was more forgiving and peaceful. I yearned for a quiet life, now I had it, I worried it would be lost to the cruel world once again. Now I had Sandor protecting me, it lessened the worry, but never took it away completely.

Ah, so many small moments I remembered since he came to my service. This was a time I would think on them for he wasn't here, and so his presence was felt more keenly. While he was in my service, noticing such small things like how he would open a door before me, or bow after I would say goodnight, the time he had helped me upon my horse and he held my hand; his hand was so large compared to my own, yet it made me feel safe knowing those were the hands that would always be ready to defend me. Their was always eye contact, no matter how fleeting. He had simply held my hand tightly, looked at me with a wry smile and said, ''You're all right little bird, you'll not fall'' as I was holstered upon my horse.

While I stood, walking the halls, my youngest handmaiden Clari approached, ''My lady, a letter arrived for you, it is from the guards''. Sandor. ''Thank you Clari'', taking the letter, I made a sharp turn back to my room so their would be quiet while reading it. Settling in the chair by the bed, I broke the seal;

 _My Lady Sansa,_

 _Forgive me for not writing of late, or much. Many of the border inspections have gone successful, no sign of them and I hope never. Gods it's bloody freezing, only the dead could live this far North and any we have met might as well be dead for being this far North._

 _The men grow tired and hungry, food is scarce up here. It'll not be long now unless we run into anything, and we'll be back within the walls of Winterfell. I hope you are well little bird? I'll feel more agreeable once I have a warm fire, a steaming pot of stew and bread, and a bed that isn't made of branches and leaves!_

 _One thought keeps me warm, and that is of my Lady's crimson hair. If I had a lock of that hair to keep with me, my night's wouldn't be as cold._

 _Kindest regards,_

 _Sandor Clegane, protector and sworn shield to Lady Sansa Stark, of Winterfell._

It had been weeks since I received word from him, and now I had a letter, longer than many he had sent before, and one that I could feel his exhaustion from the patrols. I had thought it over while I reread the letter, and considered, ' _perhaps it was time to call them back. Sandor and the guards would be better within the walls of Winterfell than out there. Besides, I can't bare for any of them to become more of those things'._ I knew they had more land to cover, more borders to survey, but perhaps they could be checked again in a couple weeks time. No longer did I want them, especially Sandor out there suffering. I may even have some of the other houses survey the last of the borders.

I longed for his presence at my side, to catch a glimpse of his face in long thought. I would right a letter and have a raven to send before last light.

 _Your Lady Sansa of House Stark,_

 _I send word that commander Sandor Clegane and his men are to return to Winterfell. I have sent ravens to House Mormont and two other houses to gather some of their guards to take your place in surveying the last of the North's borders. Your presence will be needed here at Winterfell more so as winter is upon us. The winter grows colder, and I would not have any of my men suffer any longer. Prepare yourself for the journey home, your families are waiting, I am for ever grateful for your duties to the house of Stark._

 _Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, Warden of the North._

Now all I would wait for was his return. I would pray before last light to the mother to keep him safe and watch over all of them. When he first walked through those gates with Thoros and some other men, what a sorry old hound he had appeared. His hair was no longer than I remembered, just less clean and more unkempt. A beard that I could only call a wizard's had taken over his face. Although, a beard did suit him and he had still kept it. His face and eyes though, had aged. I knew how much the world had taken upon those large shoulders and how they weighed him down. I must confess, I did not have an open armed welcome for him, nor his men. I was more distrusting then, from now, and without reason. However, I did remember the night of the Blackwater. He had on several occasions saved from a worse situation. We spoke in private that afternoon, I'd welcomed Thoros and his men to the halls for food and ale while we talked;

'Well, I can't say I expected this surprise at our gates this day', I had said, as truly I never expected to see him again or that he was still alive.

He was silent. He dared not look at me either, he only say with his head down; hands clasped tightly. Inside, I begged for him to speak, yet he only sat in quiet retreat.

He wasn't going to talk, so I let him know what would happen, ' You and your men can stay, though if you have no purpose here I do not know how long you can be accommodated for.' Raising to my feet, brushing my dress down, I continued, 'I never expected to see you again, after you parted from Arya, we all thought you dead. Here you are, quiet and without voice. No matter, remain quiet for as long as you need, I'm sure you will speak when ready. For now, my handmaidens have prepared a room for you and your men. Sleep well Sandor'.

As I made my way to leave the room, I heard a small tremor of words leave his mouth as his head still laid hidden from view, 'Thank you little bird'. That name...how long it had been since I heard that name. He was no longer the hound I could see, I could feel the change.

That was a strange day, I remembered how he sat at the long tables in silence eating, while his men conversed in merriment and delight at the handmaidens so fair. He dared not look at me for so long after he arrived upon Winterfell, and I let him be, he would open up when he was ready. After I had finished the letter, I had one of the handmaidens bring it to the master to send off by the fastest raven. I returned to my duties to keep my mind occupied while I waited. Would he return? If or when he returned, how could keep holding these feelings that were growing for him? Did he even know of them in any manner? I would focus on having him returned home, then I would decide how to handle the situation from there. Gods, I never noticed how empty this place felt without him around.

SANDOR

It was morning, I knew that much; the smell of piss from where the men had gone by the roots of the trees and the stains in the snow. Their was no sleeping long in winters delightful bitterness, nor the glar of the sun beating on the snow below. Not a cloud in the sky, but still as icely cold. Gods what I'd do for some piping hot fish, potatoes and a warm ale to wash it all down with. All we had in our camp was some stinking bread that didn't last long, and bone broth from animals we'd caught seldom. It kept us going, but gods it was foul, nothing as delicious as what they made in the halls of Winterfell. They knew how to cook their food well, nothing fancy just good ol' wholesome meals.

I laughed to myself remembering his lady Sansa's love for those gods awful lemoncakes. Bitterly sweet to taste I thought, it was a wonder her teeth weren't black with rot for how often she had them. Sweetest tooth for the sweetest mouth I knew, from time to time I'd watch from the corner of my eye how she'd sometimes forget her manners; forget the fork and eat them with her fingers. I'd watch her lick her fingers after with a childish smirk on her face at their sweetness and nod in amusement at it. What a foolish thing to remember, though a sweet one.

It had been some time since we had word from Winterfell, or our Lady and with that a raven appeared to us from the west. A Winterfell raven, with the Stark seal. It was Sansa's, and an elation washed over me and my men, as a letter was not expected;

 _Your Lady Sansa of House Stark,_

 _I send word that commander Sandor Clegane and his men are to return to Winterfell. I have sent ravens to House Mormont and two other houses to gather some of their guards to take your place in surveying the last of the North's borders. Your presence will be needed here at Winterfell more so as winter is upon us. The winter grows colder, and I would not have any of my men suffer any longer. Prepare yourself for the journey home, your families are waiting, I am for ever grateful for your duties to the house of Stark._

 _Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, Warden of the North._

After I heard the words from one of the men that we were to return to Winterfell, I felt all the winter nights leave my cold and aching shoulders. Fortune was on our side, we would go home. Home I thought to myself, what a strange word that was to me. A place that I felt comfort and peace within. Thoros however, was of a different mind to returning to Winterfell.

'My god doesn't require me at Winterfell any longer. My service to the lord of light is needed elsewhere, further west than the known west. This is a sign my old friend, that my time here is at an end. Your place is North Sandor, by the lady's side, that was always where you were to find peace. I think I stayed longer than I needed; I wont lie, it was the glorious food'.

I laughed at his honesty, and admired that he had stayed out our entire patrol, perhaps he was to make sure I was to head back to Winterfell. Whatever his reason, I never questioned it. 'aye, the food is glorious. It is what you do Thoros, may your god go with you, wherever the fuck that is ha!', I just scoffed at him, as I'd always done. The men had become fond of Thoros, but I knew he was never one for settling and his ''lord of light'' was always on the move.

Some time after Thoros had left, myself and the men headed back home where we were needed most. Now my journey back to Winterfell would be thoughts of auburn red hair and alabaster skin of my lady. If gods be true, do not hasten my travel. My bones ached to be in her presence, to smell her soft winter rose scent and glance upon my lady's eyes once more.


End file.
